


Fear's Icy Hand

by princess13



Category: Criminal Minds, Criminal Minds: Beyond Borders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 10:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11333889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princess13/pseuds/princess13
Summary: “So, let me get this straight,” Garcia said, her voice shaking. At each word she spoke, she anxiously clung to it. “We have two mass murders who hate us more than anything in the world coming after us.”“It seems that way.” Rossi said, his voice sounding dead.Jack and Emily looked at each other. Now only silence lingered in the air. Tersely, their eyes flicker to the buildings that just minutes ago had been a hum of excitement and exhilaration, but now seemed to have withered with age.Emily could only focus on one thing: keep her team alive.





	1. Chapter 1

The devil is not evil. The only evil ones are us.  
\- unknown 

The evening was as old as the coffee on Emily’s desk. She tapped it's murky surface to break the thickening skin and watched the new gap grow. The frigid brown drink dripped from her finger, the ripples spreading toward the rim in ever larger circles. Emily Prentiss sighed and leaned back in her seat. She had finished her reports for the evening and had nothing else planned for the evening. 

She peered outside her office door and saw the rest of her team gathered around Spencer Reid’s desk. Judging by their laughter, Emily assumed that he was showing them a magic trick. 

All members of her team presented valuable assets to their team. There was David Rossi, famous author and world renown profiler; JJ, tough and caring; Penelope Garcia, a fantastic computer analyst; Spencer Reid, a genius with an IQ of 187; and her, having returned from her work at interpol. There was also the additions to the team in the form of Luke Alvez, a former member of the fugitive task force, and Tara Lewis, a forensic psychologist. 

She stood up, brushing off her pants. She was just about to look up her office when her phone buzzed. She glanced down at it resting on her desk. 

Jack Garrett  
Long time, no see. The team just got back from South Africa and was hoping that you’d meet us for dinner. But not at Rossi’s this time. 

Emily chuckled to herself and headed out to join the team. They all glanced up at their unit chief as she approached. Emily grinned at her team, knowing they'd be happy to have the chance to see Jack Garrett’s team. 

“The IRT wants to meet us for dinner.” Emily said. “I assume that we’d be willing to meet them.” 

“Yes, of course.” Jennifer Jareau, better known as JJ, put in. She was a tall, slim, blond woman with a fierce love for her friends. “It would be great to see them again. We haven't seen them since…” 

“Garcia’s birthday party.” Reid said. “That was approximately 123 days ago.” 

“Thanks.” Rossi said flatly. He turned to his dark haired superior and said, “i’ll head home and start to prep for dinner.” 

“No.” Emily shook her head at her second in command. “Jack requested that we didn't eat at your place.” 

“Why not?” Rossi looked hurt. The rest of the BAU chuckled. “Everyone loves my pasta.” 

“That’s true.” Emily said. “I have a feeling that we would all like to eat something other than pasta for once.” 

“There's a new mexican restaurant that just opened downtown. We can go there.” JJ suggested. 

“Sounds good.” Emily said. “So, i’ll tell jack that we’ll meet them there in an hour.” 

“I actually have a prior dinner arrangement…” Alvez muttered, gathering up his things quickly. 

“No you don't.” Garcia called out. Her eyebrows were well above the brim of her glasses. Alvez opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “And don't try to say you’re going to see Roxy. We know that's your dog.” 

“I think he's afraid to see her.” JJ half whispered to the rest of the team. 

“I would be too after that split wine incident at Garcia’s party.” Tara said, fighting back on a grin. She locked eyes with the rugged man who has shaking his head. 

“That was an accident.” Alvez insisted. “We've been over this. I had no idea that she was standing behind me.” 

“A likely story.” JJ rolled her eyes. “We all can see that you clearly harbor feelings for her and you’re afraid of rejection.” 

“Just ask her out. It would save you a lot of ridicule if you went through with it.” Reid said. “I think that you’re afraid to do it.

“I am perfectly capable of asking whoever I want out. And no, I am not scared, thank you.” Alvez barked. 

“Sure.” Emily rolled her eyes. She waved her phone about. “I'll tell them to meet us at the restaurant JJ suggested.” 

“Or we could all go together.” Called a voice. A silver haired man had just pushed opened the glass doors to the BAU. 

“Jack Garrett, how dare you insist that we do not eat at my place.” Rossi shouted as his old friend. “I thought you loved my pasta.” 

“It's not that we don't love you pasta,” Jack said, “but I would much rather not have another wine bottle spill all over the place.” 

“That was an accident.” Alvez groaned. “I'm never going to live that down, am I?” 

“Not a chance.” Jack chuckled. Behind Jack, two men and two women entered- the remaining IRT. One was an Asian man and the other lean African American man. The shorter of the two women had light brown hair with a bright smile. The taller of the woman was slim with high cheekbones and dark hair. The IRT- Lead by Jack- consisted of Matt Simmons, the muscle man and geoproflier; Mae Jarvis, medical examiner; Clara Seger, linguist and cultural anthologist; and Russ Montgomery, better known was Monty, who was a computer whiz and liaison with family members at home. 

“What are you not living down?” Asked Mae,the small woman with light brown hair. 

“The split wine incident of Garcia’s birthday.” Emily chuckled. Alvez groaned at her. 

“I thought we were passed that.” Simmons chuckled. “In fact we use it as a running joke now. Every time we open a bottle of wine, we ask Clara to steer clear of it.” 

“As much as I like reminiscing on the time Alvez spilled wine all over me, I’m hungry.” Clara, the taller of the two women, suggested. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” Emily laughed and clapped her hands together.  
\---------------------------------------------------------

So then I say, ‘That’s fine with me as long as you brought the car’ and you know what he says, ‘do your worst’. It's unbelievable.” Monty cries, throwing down his napkin. There was a round of laughter as everyone seated in the back room of the little Mexican restaurant laughed. 

“Did he really say that to you?” A blonde, rather eccentric, computer analysis asked her IRT team counterpart. Penelope Garcia’s eyes were wide with disbelief. 

“Swear to god,” Monty insisted, leaning back in his chair. “That was the last thing I expected him to say.” 

“Well, what did you do?” JJ asked from across the table. She pushed her blonde hair behind her as she took a sip of her drink. 

“He told him to ‘shove off or else,’.” Matt Simmons chuckled. He shook his head as he spoke, almost as if he couldn't believe it himself. 

“Monty!” Several voice laughed. This was a rare occasion, for both the BAU and the IRT to be able to see each other. The BAU spent their days chasing down unsubs in America while the IRT was their international counterpart.

“I propose a toast,” Rossi said, standing up with his glass raised, “to good friends, who are like family. May we always cherish our friendship!” 

“Here, here.” Jack Garrett chuckled as everyone touched glasses, filling the air with the sounds of clinking. 

“Gosh, I wish we could do this more often.” Garcia sighed. “This is just so much fun.” 

“Crime never stops,” Emily shook her head, taking a gulp of the margarita that sat in front of her. “I'm glad we decided to do this. It's not often that that we all get to see each other anymore.” 

“Well, for once, no Americans seem to be in trouble,” JJ said, knocking on the wooden table that sat between them. 

“So,” Emily said, pointing at the team across from hers, “what’s the IRT been up to these days? Where’s the most exciting place you've been too?” 

“Oh, Egypt,” Mae Jarvis gushed, making her whole face light up. “I just love the history there. I've always wanted to go there and it was very surreal seeing the pyramids.” 

“We saw the pyramids….in Vegas,” JJ tried, making everyone laugh. 

“I liked Korea,” Simmons said. “I managed to find my grandmother.” 

A chorus of “That's wonderful,” and “oh, how awesome,” filled the air as Simmons grinned and put his drink down. 

“Where is the famous Jack Garrett’s favorite place in the world?” Garcia asked the silver haired man beside her. Jack chuckled slightly before Rossi cut in. 

“I've got this,” he said, pointing at his longtime friend, “it's montecarlos, isn't it? Remember that wonderful trip we took for my bachelor party and we ended up naked on-” 

“It is not Montecarlo,” Jack cut him off sharply, shaking his head, clearly not wanting Rossi to finish his statement, “it's right here in DC.” 

“You’re favorite place is in America?” Garcia cried, “why do you lead the IRT then?” 

“I like to travel,” jack chuckled, “but I like being able to come home.” 

“So what about this whole bachelor story?” Emily asked Rossi, “I think everyone wants to hear the rest of the story,” 

“No, I don't think so,” Jack said quickly, redirecting the conversation, glaring at Rossi. “Clara hasn't talked about her favorite place in the world. I think people want to hear about that more than that story.”

“I want to hear the rest of your story,” Clara shook her head, grinning. “It seems far more interesting than me sharing some lame adventure.” 

“No, I think everyone wants to hear about your favorite place,” Jack insisted, silently pleading with the pretty brunette. 

Clara huffed, “okay, well, my favorite place is-” 

“Bangladesh-” both Mae and Simmons coughed loudly, before looking away. Clara shot them both glares as Jack looked relieved that focus was not on him anymore. 

“Why Bangladesh?” JJ raised her eyebrows at her former academy classmate. 

“There's no reason,” Clara said a little too quickly, taking a bite of food to avoid speaking. 

“No reason? Oh, I think Jeffrey is most certainly a reason,” Mae cried at her best friend. 

“Jeffrey?” Emily perked up, while Garcia leaned in. JJ and Tara shot a sly glance over at Alvez, who looked panicked. Alvez’s schoolboy like crush on Clara Seger was a running joke in the BAU. Reid patted him on the back, which offered no comfort. Only Monty picked up on the sympathetic looks the BAU was giving Alvez, and he let out a little “oh.” 

“So, Who is this guy?” Alvez cleared his throat, setting down his drink and attempting to look calm. Tara sighed and rubbed her temples, clearly not convinced by his ‘unconcerned performance’. 

“This super sexy BBC reporter who helped us in Bangladesh,” Mae half whispered, shooting Clara a grin. Clara frowned at her friend. Garcia dove to grab her phone from her purse and began punching buttons into it. 

“What are you doing?” JJ asked the frantic looking blonde. 

“Looking this guy up.” She cried, looking at her fellow blonde as if she was crazy. “No one takes my friends out without a throughout background check.” 

“Oh, that's not necessary, Garcia. I've got things-” 

“Jeffrey Kahn, age 35, distinguished reporter….oh good lord, wow! He is...he is very good looking. Well done Clara!” Garcia nearly shouted, startling the waiter who had returned with refills. Mae, Emily and JJ crowded around Garcia’s phone, gushing about this stranger. Alvez sunk down in his chair; Rossi and Emily cast him sympathetic looks. 

“Excuse me,” Tara said, putting her hand on the waiter’s arm. “Can you get me your strongest whiskey please?” 

“It's okay, buddy.” Reid said. “The world's male population is 3,477,829,638, while the female population is 3,418,059,380. There's others out there.” 

“Thanks Reid,” Alvez said flatly. 

“So, what's been up with the BAU?” Mae asked, sitting back down as Garcia dropped her phone back into her bag. 

“Work as usual.” JJ said with a huff. “We’ve been working double duty since Morgan left.” 

“You can't blame him.” Simmons said. “Raising a family can be hard with a job like this.” Simmons had four kids to look after, allowing him to relate to Morgan’s situation. JJ and Jack nodded, in the same situation. 

“So, how about switching jets?” Rossi offered, changing the subject. “My offer still stands from last week.” 

“Not a chance.” All five members of the IRT said. 

“Monty,” Garcia cried in confusion, “you don't even travel with your team. You sit in an office all day.” 

“Does not mean that don't like to brag about our jet.” Monty wagged a finger at her. 

“Oh, like you’re doing now?” Garcia scoffed playfully at her friend. “But you know, if you went with your team, you wouldn't have time to steal my octopus mug.” 

“Here it comes,” Emily groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Garcia, give it a rest, would ya?” JJ groaned, covering her face with her hands. “That was months ago.” 

“Not until he admits that he that stole my mug!” Garcia shouted as the waiter returned with a glass of whiskey, which he sat down in front of Alvez. 

“Anyone planning to get dessert?” The waiter asked. 

“No, but if you'll give the check to me,” Rossi offered. The waiter nodded and vanished. He returned moments later, giving Rossi the check. 

“Are you sure you want to pay for all that?” Mae asked Rossi. He only sent her a raised eyebrow and handed the check back to the waiter. 

“Well, if we're all here, dinner next week?” Emily asked. She was met with enthusiasm. They all headed out of the crowded resultant and to their respective team cars, which were parked beside her. 

“So tell me again,” Rossi said, “You guys really don't want to change planes? I think it would be a fair deal.” 

“No way, sir,” Simmons laughed. “What’d ya say, Jack?...Jack?” 

Jack was frozen, staring at the driver's seat of the jeep. His face was hard to see in the dark but Simmons could see there was an expression of confusion. 

“What is it?” Mae asked, moving to see what Jack was looking at. Her expression changed and she took a huge step back. “Is that suppose to be a threat?” Clara, Monty and Simmons all crowded around the window. There was a note attached to the driver's side window. 

я вернулся, it read. 

“I'm back?” Clara translated in confusion. “Who’s back?” 

“It's hard to tell,” Jack said. 

“Nope. I'm out.” Monty said, shaking his head violently, “I hate when freaks like this do things. For once, I would like to have an evening in peace.” 

“Who could've written this?” Mae asked, looking up at her boss. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. 

“I don't know,” Jack said flatly. Sweat had broken out on his forehead. “I don't know,” he repeated again so softly that only he could hear it himself. Of course, he had one idea. The Ripper of Riga, Oleg Anktakov was the only person who would have left a cryptic note, in Russian, on his car. Fortunately, Oleg was dead. Jack had shot him in the chest twice a year ago. 

“Jack, you don't think that Oleg Antakov could still be...alive? ” Simmons began, his face now contorted into a scowl. 

“Who...who are you talking about?” Emily asked. 

“The Ripper of Riga, Oleg Antakov.” Clara said quietly. 

“The ex K. B. G agent who-” 

“Went after my family last year.” Jack spat. “But I killed him. Oleg has to be dead, I'm sure of it.” 

A year ago, the IRT had been called to Russia to investigate the disappearance of an American ballerina. As it turned out, one of Jack’s oldest enemies, Oleg Antokov, was behind the whole thing. He had assured that the IRT would be there, leaving Jack’s family at home unprotected. Oleg escaped prison and kidnapped Jack’s oldest son. Oleg forced Ryan, Jack’s oldest, to shot his father. Fortunately, Ryan had outsmarted, allowing Jack to shoot Oleg. 

“Wasn't that the case with the missing American ballerina?” Garcia asked. When the IRT nodded, she went on, “yeah, he planned the whole abduction of the ballerina as part of his escape plan.” 

“The guy who created a biting device and used it to tortured his victims by biting off parts of their flesh?” Rossi inserted. “I remember you talking about him.” 

“Ryan didn't stop to see if Oleg was dead.” Jack muttered to his team as the BAU talked about the case among themselves. “He was more concerned with the fact that I'd been shot.” 

“So you’re saying he's could still be alive?” Mae whispered back. Her face was stark white, looking like she had seen a ghost. 

“It’s not likely...but possible.” He said back. Monty groaned, covering his face in his hands. Simmons and Clara glanced at each other in concern as Alvez noticed something on the door of the BAU’s jeep. 

“Hold up,” Alvez said sharply. He picked up a piece of paper attached to the front windshield of the BAU’s jeep. “It looks like we've got one too.” He held it up, showing the others. 

“What's it say?” JJ asked. 

“It says ‘Did you miss me?’. And unfortunately, I recognize the writing.” Alvez said. His voice was thick as he spoke, as if he wanted to hit something. 

“Don't tell me!” Garcia cried, throwing her hands up in the air. A feeling of suspense hung over everyone. 

“It's Scratch’s handwriting.” Alvez confirmed. At once, the warm summer air around them felt twenty degrees cooler. Dread crept up everyone's spine like a spider spinning her web. It chilled everyone to the bone, freezing them to their spots. 

“The guy that you all thought framed Reid?” Mae asked slowly, breaking the icy atmosphere that hung around them. 

“Peter Lewis, or "Mr. Scratch", is a serial killer, hacker, and stalker that we've been chasing for the last year. He caused hallucinations that made people kill their loved ones. He's the one that drove Hotch into hiding.” Emily said. 

“He's coming after us again.” Reid said in a dead sounding voice. 

“This isn't fair!” Garcia cried. “Why does he think it's okay to mess with our lives?” Her voice was wavering as she spoke. Color drained from her face, white as a sheet. 

“Two threatening notes left while we were eating?” Rossi said. “That can't be a coincidence.” 

“Maybe someone's just messing with us...I hope.” Monty said. He was just saying it to try and make everyone feel hopeful. He knew it was to no avail. The damage was done; both teams felt like a mountain of fear had just come to smother their lives. 

“So, let me get this straight,” Garcia said, her voice shaking. At each word she spoke, anxiously clung to it. “We have two mass murders who hate us more than anything in the world coming after us.” 

“It seems that way.” Rossi said, his voice dead. 

Jack and Emily looked at each other. Now only silence lingered in the air. Tersely, their eyes flicker to the buildings that just minutes ago had been a hum of excitement and exhilaration, but now seemed to have withered with age. All Emily could focus on was one thing: keep her team alive.

“Look, it’s late.” Emily said as she checked her watch. “We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” Jack agreed. He opened the driver's door to the Jeep and nodded to his counterparts. As the two teams drove away, two men stepped out of the shadows. The first was tall and thin, with a face like a rat. The second was shorter and more heavy. He had a grey beard and a diabolical glint in his eyes. 

“Very soon,” the first man said. His voice was coarse, yet it held the ability to make listeners shiver.

“I cannot wait to dig my teeth into them.” Said the second one. This man had a thick Russian accent. 

“They deny we are back.” Chuckled the first man. “but denial is the only thing that will keep them sane.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------

The sound of his phone ringing brought Jack out of his dream. He groaned into the pillow before sitting up. His cold feet hit the hardwood floor as he slung his legs to the side to the bed. The cold air hit him like a truck and his arms and legs crawled with goosebumps.

“Garrett,” he said sleeping into the phone. 

“Hello, Jack. Did you miss me?” Asked a cold voice with a thick Russian accent. 

A paralyzing fear spread through Jack’s body like icy, liquid metal. Jack clenched his fists as he noticed them tremble. He crunched his teeth over his lip and salty blood filled his mouth. Reality tried to tap its way into his panicking brain's rhythm. 

“How are you still alive, Oleg?” Jack snarled loudly. Karen gave small snore on the other side of the bed. Jack stood, hoping to not wake her. With each step, his legs felt heavy, like lead was weighing them down. 

“That’s not important, now is it?” Oleg’s hoarse voice asked. “Did you get my present?” 

“What are you playing at?” Jack asked. He walked into the kitchen and looked at the two FBI jackets that hung on back of the chairs. 

“You ruined my game last time, Jack. Don't you want to play again?” 

“No!” Every word Oleg spoke only fueling the fire that burned inside of Jack. Every violated phrase was like gasoline to it, his fists began to clench and his jaw rooted.

“Vell alright then,” snapped the Russian voice. “I will offer you a deal.” 

“Yeah and I've got one for you. You turn yourself in and go back to jail. No one gets hurt.” Jack barked. 

“Someone has to pay for your mistakes.” Oleg said. “You have people you care about very much. I will make you suffer. Those you love will beg for death by my hand.” 

“You leave my family alone!” Jack shouted. “I swear to god, I will kill you if you lay a finger on them.” The fear that Jack had felt when Oleg targeted his family had felt like he was drowning in an ocean. That fear exploded out of his again. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off him like ferocious waves. 

“And we all know how that ended last time.” Oleg chuckled in a singsong tone. It made Jack’s blood boil and he slammed his fist down on the counter. 

“You listen to me!” Jack roared into the phone. Oleg was baiting him and it was working. “You come near my family and I will make sure you stay dead.” 

“I must commend the taste in bars that Agent Jarvis and Montgomery have. The Omega- it's quite an enjoyable bar. I did not realize that Agent Jarvis and your son, Ryan, are -how do you Americans say? - an item. ” Oleg’s voice rang out. It took Jack a moment but he could hear the sounds of music and laughing in the background. 

“You don't touch them!” Jack snarled. “Oleg, listen to me-” 

“Agent Simmons has a very nice family. His children are just darling. They would be the so much fun to-” 

“If you touch his children-” Jack could feel desperation creeping its way up his throat. 

“Or even Agent Seger. She's such a pretty face; I would enjoy ripping it off.”

“If you so much as lay a finger on Clara, I will find you.” Jack could feel himself radiating with hate. Clara was his second in command, the voice of reason on many assignments. Her presence was always welcomed and something that Jack had come to depend on more deeply since she had returned. “This is not a game, Oleg. These are real people, with lives and a families.” 

“I had one of those once.” Oleg’s voice was rough. “You tore it away from me. You took everything from me. I'm going to take everything away from you until you are driven into madness. Only then will the game end and I will have won.” 

“No, you won't. You are nothing, you have no one. You will not succeed.” Jack snarled. 

“Say your goodbyes, Jack. 

And the line went dead.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
Jack stood silently at the kitchen counter for several moments. He fought with the growing feeling of violence that was threatening to burst through. He closed his eyes and took several deep breathes, trying to combat it. 

“Honey?” A tentative voice asked behind him. Karen, his wife, was standing behind him. Her mouth was upturned in surprise and worry was evident across her face. “Who was that?”

“It was Oleg Antavok,” there was no point in lying to her. 

“What?” Karen breathed, her voice cracking. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Jack sighed in defeat. 

“We need to call the kids and get someone on them right away. This man can't hurt our family again.” Karen was talking very quickly. “Where’s Ryan? Is he home yet?” 

“Karen, please.” Jack said, grabbing her arms. She settled down slightly, leaning into his chest. 

“What did he say?” 

“He's toying with me.” Jack said slowly, trying to get his heart rate to return to normal. 

“We need to put the kids in protection.” Karen said urgently. 

“I know.” Jack said. “We need to put Simmon's family, as well as Monty’s grandmother in it too.” 

“Did he threaten them?” Karen was taken back. Her eyes radiated surprise and concern. 

“He threatened the whole IRT. He told me he's going to take away everything I love. That could mean anything from my family to job to teammates.” 

“Well, I'm not going anywhere.” Karen said firmly, leaning into her husband’s chest again. “You’ll stop him. If I know Jack Garrett, he will do anything to protect his family.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Emily Prentiss was more than irritated when the sound of buzzing filled her room. She groaned into the pillow, silently willing her phone to stop. After another set of buzzs, she rolled over and turned on the lights. She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the bright light as she picked up her phone. 

“Agent Prentiss.” 

“Hello, Emily. It's so nice to finally meet you. My name is Peter Lewis.” Said a cold voice at sent chills up Emily’s spine. Her mouth ran dry and her stomach turned in an unfriendly way. It felt as if her brain was full of static. 

“I know who you are.” Emily replied, keeping her tone even. 

“Of course you do. Your team did, of course, originally blame me for framing Agent Reid down in Mexico.” 

“Well, all the signs pointed to you at first.” Emily said as if she were talking to an old friend. 

“Of course.” Said Scratch, drawing out the ‘s’ as he spoke. “I want the BAU to know that I've come out of hiding. You and your team can try to stop me but you won't be at to.” 

“On the contrary, I think that we will catch you.” Emily said calmly. “And you'll go back to jail where you will rot until you die.” 

“Must I remind you that I've already escaped once. I have no intention of going back to jail.” Scratch said. 

“And how do you plan to do that?” Emily asked. 

“I've made a new friend. I believe he knows some friends of yours.” Laughed Scratch. “He is the-”

“Ripper of Riga. Yes, I know.” Emily said flatly. 

“So enjoy your time, Emily. You won't be around much longer.” 

The fear thoughts looped around in her mind until there was no room for anything else  
\------------------------------------------------------------


	2. Chapter 2

"I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."   
\- Nelson Mandela 

p>Tick

Tick

The sound of the clock ticking on the nearby wall was driving Emily crazy. She glanced back at the round, ticking object of her irritation before turning back to the smooth silver elevator doors. She had called the team into work a half an hour ago. The fact that no one was here yet was making her worry. 

Where are they, she thought over and over. She glanced back at the clock, seeing that only thirty seconds had passed. 

The ding of the elevator alerted Emily to the presence of her team's arrival. She had been standing in the lobby, waiting for them. To her relief, the doors slid open to reveal all the members of her team, alive and well. They all looked rather tired, several of them sporting coffee, but safe nonetheless. 

“Emily, it’s four in the morning.” Garcia barked. Her face was makeupless for once. She wasn't wearing heel and a dress but instead a pair of sweatpants. 

“I know.” Emily said, crossing her fingers in front of her. “But I received a call from Mr. Scratch forty five minutes ago. I have already sent out protective protocol for your families.” 

“I'm sorry, what?” JJ asked, nearly dropping her coffee. 

“Scratch called you? Like you spoke to him?” Alvez said. 

“No, newbie, she had a telepathic conversation with him.” Garcia snapped, throwing him a shaded look. 

“It's hard to say what scratch wants, other than he's come out of hiding...and this time he has found a partner.” Emily’s voice shook slightly as she spoke. 

“Who?” Tara asked. 

“The Ripper of Riga.” Emily replied. The expression on her team’s faces went downhill. Garcia’s mouth dropped open while Alvez and Rossi shook their heads. The others stood in stunned silence for a few moments. 

“The same that...with the IRT...that had that biting contraption as a torture method….who is suppose to be dead?” Garcia managed to get out, clearly very flustered. 

“Jack received the same call that I did, only from the Ripper. The Ripper is very much alive.” Emily said seriously. “All Jack could tell me over the phone is that the Ripper claimed to have plans. Jack administered protective protocol on IRT member’s families.” 

“This is real, right?” Garcia asked. “I'm not still in bed and this is a nightmare?” 

“This is real.” Emily sighed. “As much as I wish I could say it wasn't.” 

“So both the IRT and the BAU are being targeted?” Alvez said. “Both Scratch and the Ripper have teamed up to...what? Kill us?” 

“Not necessarily.” Jack’s voice said behind them as the elevator slide open. “Oleg has directed a personal hatred towards all of us. However, I feel that this is a personal vendetta against me. He knows that if I go down, so will the IRT. ” He was dressed in an old looking tee shirt and sweatpants. It seemed that he had grabbed the first clothes he could to leave quickly. 

“Scratch wants the BAU to fail.” Emily said. “That much is obvious. But why now? It doesn't make sense.” 

“Maybe they both want us all dead.” Tara suggested. Behind them, the doors to the elevator slide open and Simmons and Monty both exited, rubbing their eyes. Clara and Mae followed, holding giant mugs of coffee. 

“We should get to work.” Emily said, motioned for everyone to follow her. She pushed open the glass doors to the BAU offices and lead the way to the round table room where the BAU briefed and debriefed on cases. 

“So, where do we start?” Mae asked with a yawn. Everyone was busy dropping into chairs, all looking tired. 

“I would like to know how Oleg is still alive for one,” Jack said. “I shot him in the chest twice. He should be dead.” 

“And Scratch has been dormant for nearly a year now.” Rossi said. “He's had plenty of time to devise a plan.” 

“But why are these two teaming up?” JJ put in. “How did they meet? It's hard to believe that they knew each other before the Ripper was put in prison back in the 80s,” 

“Yeah, this is a pairing that I would’ve never seen coming. Scratch and Oleg are from different sides of the world. How would've they come into contact with each other?” Mae said, taking a gulp of coffee.

“The super villain convention?” Monty muttered. A few people chuckled, grateful for the break in tension. 

“Monty might be onto something,” Jack said. “There have been other unsubs who have targeted the BAU specifically. What if they met online somehow and got to talking about their enemies?” 

“We can search the dark net to see if we can dig up anything.” Garcia said, motioning to Monty and herself. 

“Good,” Emily said. “And look to see if you can find any aliases that either of them may have been living under.” 

While both Monty and Garcia vanished from the room, everyone else gave a collective groan. Tension hung in the air. Everyone felt the same way: stressed, fearful, and angry. 

“Look, both Scratch and the Ripper are egotistic, narcissistic, sociopathic killers. Scratch is a computer genus, ex NSA, who gets off by drugging his victims so they murder loved ones. The Ripper gets off on torture and the fear he inflicts on his victims.” Emily laid out. 

“The dream team.” Simmons said flatly. “But that's all we have.”

“We have nothing,” Tara groaned, leaning back in her chair, “how are we supposed to catch a guy who's supposed to be dead and an escaped high security convict who can erase any trace of himself?”

“The Ripper said he's chosen his first victim,” Jack said, glancing back at the clock. “We have until then to catch them before that happens.” 

“We should backtrack then.” Emily said. “We know that they were at least at the restaurant at one point between seven and ten last night. Maybe the security cameras caught something?” 

“I'm on it,” Simmons said. He pulled his laptop from his bag on the floor and began to type into it rapidly. 

“Clara, can see if you can find out how the Ripper escaped out of Russia undetected?” Emily asked. 

“I can make a few calls to see.” Clara replied with a grimace. “I don't think the Russians are going to be very forthcoming with information.” She left the room, dialing a number on her phone. 

“Uh, guys.” Simpson said slowly. Judging by his voice, there was definitely something wrong. “We have a slight problem.” 

“What’d ya mean?” Mae asked, leaned over Simmins shoulder to see what he was looking at in the screen. 

“Both Scratch and Oleg not only left notes on our cars, they both ate dinner not ten feet away.” Simmons said. 

“What?” Nearly everyone in the room exclaimed, all crowding around the computer screen where Simmons had hacked into the restaurant cameras. The cameras showed the busy restaurant from the night before. The crowded restaurant was filled with people, as waiters weaved themselves through the throng. The table containing both the IRT and BAU was seated at the right hand corner of the screen. Everyone, it seemed, was enjoying themselves. 

“If I fast forward five minutes after our arrival-” Simmons began, moving the dial at the bottom. The people moved very quickly until he paused it as the hostess lead two men to a both not far from the table that the BAU and IRT was sitting. One was tall and thin while the other was short and stout. Both men were wearing hats, casting shadows over their faces. 

“Are you sure it's them?” Tara asked. 

“They get the check a few minutes before we do.” Simmons said. He fast forwarded until the waiter that was serving the two arrived with a check. The two men paid in cash. They both rose to stand and the taller of the two looked directly at the camera and tipped his hat at it. 

“He's taunting us.” Jack snarled. “He knew we would watch this.” 

“I find the fact that they were so close without any of us realizing more frightening.” Rossi said. “It's almost like they’re saying ‘look how close we can get to you without you seeing us.’ It's unnerving.” 

“It certainly speaks to their level of confidence.” JJ said. “They want us to know that they can strike at any time.” 

“How did none of us see them?” Alvez said. “And worse, they were able to hear all of our conversations. I'd say it's a safe bet to assume that they’ll use something they heard to their advantage.” 

The door opened again and Clara entered the room, looking frustrated. “The Russians were no luck. All they didn't was give me half answers until one of them hung up on me. Wait, why do you all look like that?” 

“Both Oleg and Scratch ate dinner at the restaurant, at the same time, ten feet from us!” Mae sighed, rubbing her temples. 

“What?” Blinked Clara in surprise. Mae pushed the laptop towards her. She watched the screen intently for several seconds before sighing and asking how they could have missed them. 

“I have no idea.” Jack said. “All we know is that we didn't discuss important information.” 

“I guess we could consider that as a win.” Clara said with a shrug. 

“GUYS!” Garcia came bursting back into the room with Monty hot on her heels. She looked to have sprinted back from her office. “You've got to see this!” Then she turned backwards and rushed out of the room, her feet echoing down the hall. 

Garcia’s office was filled with computers on nearly all sides. There were various fuzzy or colorful trinkets covering every space available. She dropped into the chair at her desk and everyone crowded around. 

“What did you want to show us?” Rossi asked, sandwiched between JJ and Reid. 

“Monty and I did some digging like you said.” Garcia said. “I was able to find Scratch on a very nasty website, let me tell you. It's like these creepy chat rooms were bad people talk about how much they hate someone. Anyways, Scratch was clearly searching for a partner to help take the BAU down.” 

“And how fortunate was I to stumble across Oleg on a similar chat room. The two were the only ones enraged at American FBI agents. That made them friends fast.” Monty said. 

“Besides the IRT falls under the BAU, technically.” Garcia said. “I'm sure it wasn't hard for them to find out that at least Jack and Rossi knew each other seeing that I found an old newspaper clipping about a case they worked like thirty years ago.” She pointed to her screen where a photo of Jack and Rossi, much younger looking, were shaking hands with another man. 

“Oh, was it that case about the killer who dressed as-” Rossi began, excitedly, recognizing the photo. 

“Another time.” Emily interjected sharply. 

“Scratch was able to help Oleg reach the states without a problem, being ex NSA. They made plans to meet in the states and that's where the conversations ends.” Monty said. “We can assume that they were able to talk about their plans in person then.” 

“How were you able to pick all that up?” Emily asked the two people seated at the computers. 

“It was pretty simple.” Monty said. “I was able to isolate certain words until I broke the code they were using.” He pointed at series of words on the screen. 

“Yeah, it seems that this Ripper hates Jack. And I mean hates. He wants nothing more than to ruin your life.” Garcia said. 

“Not surprising.” Jack said flatly. “I put him in prison for years and then shot him a few times.” 

“At least all that was justified.” Mae insisted, her face half squashed against Simmons shoulder. 

“There's another thing.” Garcia said. “I calculated the time it took the Ripper to send his messages and took into account the time it took to for him to send messages. Now, I know he has missed the age of technology being in prison, but he also had a several mistakes in his code, like he dragged his hand over the keyboard.” 

“Meaning?” JJ asked in confusing. 

“He's injured!” Both Monty and Reid said at the same time. 

“Yeah, think about it.” Reid said. “Jack shot him twice, probably damaging nerve. This could have easily restricted the use of one of his arms.”

“That could be another trigger.” Tara said. “I mean, losing ability to move a limb could anger a sadist like the Ripper even more enraged.” 

“All the more reason to make sure that they don't touch our families.” Jack said. “I'm going back to watch that security tape and see if I pick out an injury in Oleg.” 

“Good work.” Emily said to both Monty and Garcia. “Keep digging and see what you can find.” 

“On it.” Both Monty and Garcia said, high fiving each other. The others headed back to the briefing room where Jack was busy reviewing the footage. 

“Look here”. He said. “He's only eating with his left hand. He was right handed last time I saw him. He would struggled severely when he tried to use his right hand.” 

“So he is injured then.” JJ said. “We can use that to our advantage.” 

“I agree.” Jack said. 

“Look, I'm a doctor-” Mae said. 

“So am I.” Reid put in. 

“Medical doctor.” Mae clarified, shooting Reid a glare. “And after facing an injury like that he would have had to seek medical attention right away.” 

“You’re saying that he would have gone to a hospital?” Tara asked. 

“No. he was unconscious from the lack of blood also getting shot. What I'm saying is that someone within the Russian police who came to rescue Jack and was suppose to see Oleg buried, faked his death. That means that a member of that Russian extraction team not only helped Oleg fake his death, but they took him somewhere he could receive medical attention.” Mae said. “However, the attention he revived is not from a hospital. Any doctor would have performed surgery right away but it looks like whoever worked on Oleg here ripped the bullet out...with a knife and pliers most likely.”

“We're looking for an underground clinic then?” Simmons asked Mae. 

“We should add that to the list of things Monty and Garcia can look for.” Jack said. “They can possibly isolate chatter about one in St. Petersburg.” 

“I have a friend in the St. Petersburg Police.” Simmons said. “I can see if he can help us with our officer who helped Oleg.” He stood up and left the room, leaving the others behind. 

“Mae, to what extent of training would a doctor have to be able to operate on injuries of that caliber?” Tara asked. 

Mae sighed and crossed her arms, thinking hard. “I would say at least standard medical school training. I'm thinking that our ex doctor was most likely military, being able to perform a surgery like that. Oleg’s resulting injury, however, making me think that this doctor hasn't performed a major surgery like that in a while.” 

“So, an ex military doc who now works as an underground mob doctor.” Alvez said. “At least that narrowed down the search. I’ll go tell Garcia.” 

Five minutes later, Garcia called them down to her office. Monty was busy typing rapidly into a second computer. His face was so close to the screen that you could see steam form on the screen from his exhales. 

“I found your creepy ex doctor.” She said and flashed them a picture of an older man with greying hair and beard. “Alexei Kuznetsov. Age 60. He was a member of soviet army in the 70s and 80s. He was, however, kicked out of the army for performing inhumane experiments on his patients. He then took a rather lovely career of a mob doctor.” 

“We’re going to have to send someone to talk to him.” Jack said. He pointed to Mae and Clara. “I need you two use the back channels to meet with him. Find out what he knows about the Ripper.” 

“That's going to be hard.” Garcia said. “He's dead.” 

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it says right here.” She pointed to the screen. “Apparently he...well...had his eyeballs scraped out and then...well..someone ripped his throat out with their teeth.” She trailed off in disgust. 

“Sounds like Oleg was trying to prevent anyone from telling the world he was still alive.” Jack said. “Hopefully, Simmons has more on an officer.” 

“Sergeant Artem Sokolov,” Simmons said from behind them. 

“Let me guess,” JJ said. “He’s dead too.” 

“Bingo.” Simmons snapped his fingers.” He was found with his throat also torn out in his apartment three weeks ago.” 

“Lovely.” Garcia chirped sarcastically. 

“I have an old friend who has since moved to St. Petersburg to work in security industry.” Simmons explained, “He works alongside the police force there. He said that Sokolov was a friend of the same guard, Ivan Kosar, who helped Oleg escape in the first place.” 

“They must have been in on it together from the start.” Mae said. 

“Right. We had already caught Ivan Kosar. Oleg couldn't risk us potentially discovering that he had more help should be get in trouble.” Clara put in. “And then he killed Sokolov in order to prevent news of his survival from spreading until he was ready to reveal himself.” 

“Hey guys.” Monty said. “I just got a hit on some fake IDs that matched up with both Scratch and Oleg’s faces.” 

Everyone turned to face his computer where two Maryland driver's licenses were up. Both Oleg and Scratch’s photos were plastered clearly up on the screen. 

“They’re going by the names of Jack Garrett and Aaron Hotchner.” Monty announced with a grimace. 

“Scratch has to know that he's pushed Hotch into hiding.” JJ said. “So why take his name.” 

“Maybe he wants to draw Hotch out.” Emily said. “Or maybe he's just doing it because he's a sick, narcissistic maniac. Either way, using those names are bound to get our attention.” 

“Everything they do is to get our attention.” Reid said. “They have an endgame, whatever that is.” 

“They did however use those IDs to check into a hotel, The Regal Inn.” Monty said, after tapping a few buttons. “From what I can tell, it's one of those cheap motels that looks the other way. I'll send the address to your phones.” 

“They got sloppy.” Alvez said. 

“Alright.” Jack said. “Let's go get ‘em.”  
\----------------------------------------------------

The two teams drove in silence down an old, heavily patched road on the outstrips of DC. There were a few buildings that they passed but they were mostly all boarded up. They reached the location of the address that Monty sent them. Here, they found a shabby looking, two story Inn. A few windows were boarded up and one lonesome car sat in the parking lot. 

“Everyone stay sharp.” Jack said, fastening his bulletproof vest bearing the letters IRT. “Emily and I will see which room they are staying in. Everyone else, fan out and see what you can find.”

Emily followed Jack through a door with a makeshift sign that said “Lobby.” The Regal Inn lobby had that spooky charm, being dull and quiet with cobwebs everywhere. Jack walked up the the front desk and rang the bell sitting there. It echoed loudly in the small room. 

“What?” Barked an irritated voice. An old man came waddling out of the office behind the desk. He took one glance at the two people wearing bulletproof vests and rolled his eyes. “What do you people want?” 

“Do you know these men?” Emily said. She showed him pictures of Scratch and the Ripper. 

“Nope. Sorry.” Rasped the old man. 

“Well, look.” Emily said. “We know that they stayed here. So why don't you cut the crap and help us.” 

“Look lady. This is a ‘pay me and I'll look the other way’ type of establishment.” Said the old man. 

“Really, well I still think that you can-” 

“Are you the owner of this place?” Jack interrupted. 

“Yep.” Said the old man, popping the ‘p’. “You got a problem with the way I run things at my own hotel.” It wasn't a question; it was a statement. 

“Well, it seems that your hotel is in violation of several health and safety regulations.” Jack said. “I'm sure that you don't want more federal agents breathing down your back.” 

Emily smirked as the man paled. “Why don't you help us and we won't report you. Now, do you know these men?” 

“Yeah, they stayed here for a few days. Didn't really talk to them much. One was Russian, I think.” The old man said frowning. “They paid for a room in cash so I don't have a name.”

“Really?” Jack said without emotion. 

“What was their room?” Emily asked. The old man handed her a key from under his desk. 

“Ten.” He grunted. “I assume that they checked out. I haven't seen them in a few days.” 

“Thank you.” Emily said with a fake smile as she closed her hand on the cool metal. Jack sent the old man one last glare before they left the lobby and back into the sunlight. At once, the air seemed ten times warmer. 

“I am so calling health and safety about this place.” Emily muttered to Jack. He nodded in agreement as the others walked over. 

“Monty said that no traffic cams have picked up either of them coming this way in two days.” Simmons informed them. “This may be an empty lead.” 

“Doesn't matter.” Jack said. “It's worth a shot.” They arrived at door that must have had a number ten on it at one time. Now, all that was left was a dusty shadow of a mark on the brown door. Emily interested the key and shoved the door open, flashing her gun as she did so. 

“Clear.” She called as she pushed her way in. Others began to check out the bathroom as she looked around. The room had two beds with striped sheets, a desk and a mirror covered in dust. The walls were covered with chipped paint and it smelled like garbage. 

“Clear!” Simmons called from the bathrooms. “You might want to take a look at this though.” Emily pushed her way into the bathroom and groaned. Blood splattered covered the entire length of one wall. Bloody hand prints were all over the shower walls. The bathtub had a ring of red surrounding it. 

“So now we have to figure out who they just killed in this bathroom.” Emily muttered, snapping on gloves and bending down to examine her crime scene. Some of the others moved back into the main room to scour for other clues. 

“Well, this kind of overkill speaks to their rage.” JJ said from behind her. “Whoever this was, scratch or Oleg had a real problem with them.” 

“Something like this would cause a commotion.” JJ said. “So why didn't anyone hear anything?” 

“Probably because of the clientele of this hotel.” Tara said. “I can still go see if I can find anyone who saw anything.” She grabbed hold of Reid’s arm and dragged him out of the bathroom to take him with her. 

“It looks like whoever it was was held under the water from the ring here.” JJ pointed to ring around the bathtub. “But that person was also stabbed judging by the blood spray along the walls.” 

“Our question really is about who the victim is.” Emily said, standing up. “They can't have taken the body far. Alvez, can you see if you can find anything?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll take Clara and see if we can find anything.”

“Sure thing, lover boy.” Emily teased, watching as his cheeks flushed. 

“What a romantic idea for a first date.” JJ rolled her eyes. “Searching for a dead body of a person killed by your arch enemies.” 

“No.” Alvez shook his head wildly. “Our first date wasn't like that. We went somewhere nice. I would-.” 

“Your first date?” Both Emily and JJ asked sharply. Emily’s jaw dropped open, looking more shocked than anyone. There was the sound of footprints as a person appeared in the doorway. 

“Are you really planning a date in the middle of crime scene?” Clara appeared behind them. Her eyebrows were raised in surprise and disbelief. 

“No.” Alvez insisted at once. Clara raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Alvez was just telling us about the date that you went on with him.” Emily said, narrowing her eyes at her friend, “which neither of you told anyone about.” 

Clara raised her eyebrows at Alvez, a smirk ghosting along her lips. “It wouldn't call the few times we met for lunch or coffee dates.” 

Both Emily and JJ chuckled and Alvez felt his face heat up. He looked down at the ground, ignoring the burning sensation on his face. He sighed and then looked back up at the three smirking women. 

“Would you like to go dead body searching with me?” He asked with a sigh. Clara raised her eyebrows at him again and chuckled. 

“Sure…” she said, shooting Emily and JJ a look. She then turned on her heels and headed back into the bedroom. 

“Smooth.” Both Emily and JJ said. Alvez sent them a annoyed look before following Clara out the door. 

“I found the body!” Mae announced from the other room. She dragged a large trash bag from under the bed and was untying it. At once, a rancid smell reached everyone's noses and they all nearly gagged. “Or part of it, anyways.” 

Everyone peered into the bag Mae held open. Inside was two bloody eyeballs and several fingers and toes. Each could only glance in for a few moments before recoiling, their eyes burning and bile rising in their throats. 

“We should get those back to the office and Mae can take a better look at them.” Jack said, looking completely unfazed by their discovery. 

“Of the few people at this dump, very few were willing to talk to us. Those who did, say that both Scratch and Oleg kept to themselves except they did have a woman, dark haired, visiting them on the night before the vanished.” Tara said, appearing the doorway. 

“What are you looking are?” Reid asked, peered into the bag. 

“That dead girl's fingers, toes and eyeballs.” Mae said, closing the bag. 

“We can have this room blocked off and send a guard to watch it over the night.” Jack said. “In the meantime, there's nothing else we can do except look for a body.” 

They trailed back outside. Mae and Tara went to put the evidence bag into one of the cars, while the others went to find Clara and Alvez. 

“We might have found something.” Alvez waved them over from where he was trying to get a dumpster lid unsealed. “There have been several rats scurrying around this spot.” 

“Probably because there's trash in the dumpster.” JJ said. 

“I don't think so.” Alvez said. He glanced over at Clara, who was picking a padlock on the dumpster with a bobby pin. “Because who puts padlocks on dumpsters.” Clara stepped back from the padlock, looming triumphant. The lock now hung open. 

Jack's phone rang as Alvez was speaking. He glanced down and saw that it was an unknown number. Dread settled into his stomach as he answered. 

“Remember what happened last time that you went in search of a missing girl?” Asked a Russian voice. 

“Alvez! No!” He shouted but it was too late; Alvez had already began to lift the lid of the dumpster. At once, a pillar of fiery smoke and dust was spewing violently into the air. A series of new flashes broke out, sending a ridiculous burning sensation through everyone's bodies. Jack felt himself be lifted off the the ground and slam into the cement.

He lay facedown on the cement for several moments. His whole body ached and he could feel the heat radiating off of his body. He sat up as the smoke cleared and looked around. 

“Is everyone okay?” He rasped, blinking through the smoke spewing from the dumpster. Reid looked like a scorched pipe cleaner with charred bits of trash covering him. Both Emily and JJ seemed okay with only a few scratches on their faces. Simmons was groaning, but looked fine other than that. 

“Hey.” Jack struggled stand. His head felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. He struggled to reach Clara and Alvez, who had been closest to the blast. Alvez, it seemed, had grabbed hold of Clara during the blast and had shielded her from most of the blast. They had both crumpled to the ground as well. 

“Luke?” Clara shook the man beside her a few times. He groaned and rolled over. 

“Clara!” He said, carefully examining her forehead which now donned a rather nasty gash. “Are you okay?” 

“I'm fine.” She said. “Thanks to you.” The pair were smiling at each other, covered in dirt and soot. They looked like they were straight out of an action film, right before the ending credits. 

“What happened?” Mae and Tara came flying around the corner of the hotel. They looked panicked and even more worried when they saw the dumpster spewing fire. 

“The dumpster exploded.” JJ said. 

“Obviously,” Tara scoffed, looking at the smoke spewing from the metal box. 

“I’ll call crime lab to come get the body.” Emily grumbled, holding her head with one hand. “We can't do much until the body is thoroughly processed.” 

While they were waiting for some of the CSI people to arrive, Mae busied herself by fixing up those who had taken damage from the blast. She had just finished up stitching Alvez’s head up when Emily, Reid and Rossi wandered over. 

“So, is he going to live?” Rossi asked Mae, shooting Alvez a glance. 

“Yep, he’ll be fine.” Mae said. “Just don't try to blow up any more dumpster in the meantime, Alvez.” 

“I’ll try not to.” Alvez chuckled at the medical examiner. “Thanks, Mae.” Mae smiled back and walked over to where the rest of the IRT was gathered, clearly in some deep discussion with the hotel owner. The owner was shouting at them, clearly angry with the current situation. 

“Wow, nice going.” Emily teased. “Maybe she’ll go out with you for real this time.” She nudged Alvez and nodded over at the brunette woman with high cheek bones who was getting stitches in her forehead. 

“Go out with...for real?” Rossi asked, looking confused. 

“Alvez, here, has taken Clara out to lunch and for coffee a few times…and didn't tell anyone about it.” Emily said. 

“What?” Both Rossi and Reid barked. 

“Really guys?” Alvez said 

“Wedding bells anyone?” Rossi asked. Alvez narrowed his eyes at him and was about to say something smartly back when the crime lab arrived to gather the body. Jack was busy conversing with the man in charge before he returned to the group of FBI agents gathered around the SUVs.Simmons gave the owner one last warning look before returning to the group. 

“I’m having the body sent back to Quantico. Hopefully, someone there will be able to identify the body.” Jack began and cut Mae off as she opened her mouth. “I suggest we take the rest of the night off. There's not much more we can do.” 

“I’m a medical examiner! Why can't I-” Mae argued. 

“All of us could use the night off.” Emily agreed. “Let's all take the time off the regather and we’ll meet in the morning.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something I wrote for fun but I'm not sure if I'll continue this. If you would like me to, just let me know. Suggestions are always welcome.


End file.
